


My Hearts Already Sinned

by prettysosharp



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Secret Relationship, Supportive Izzy, alec makes questionably smart decisons, be gay do crime, happy jalec, jalec - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettysosharp/pseuds/prettysosharp
Summary: When Alec wakes up, it's with a throbbing headache, a queasy stomach, a half-naked Jace sprawled out on top of him, and a ring on his finger that definitely wasn't there as far as he can remember - not that he can remember much at all.





	1. Maybe I Dreamt You

**Author's Note:**

> [Disclaimer](https://i.imgur.com/qggqcDr.jpg). Chapter title from the poem, [Maybe I Dreamt You](https://admidala.tumblr.com/post/145120310910/i-the-biggest-lie-youve-ever-told-it-starts), by A. M. Jarvis.

They’re _married_. 

That’s the only thought Alec can register as he sits on the floor, marriage license in the hand that’s he’s not staring at. The Herondale ring on his finger catches the light as it filters in through the smudged motel windows. He isn’t entirely sure _how_ it happened, and so far, no amount of focus has been able to fill in _all_ of the blanks. There was alcohol involved, that much he remembers. The taste of it still lingers on his tongue, even a day later, and the throbbing at his temples is a reminder of _why_ he usually avoids drinking to begin with.

He _hates_ this part. 

The headaches and queasiness and general confusion that follows, of which there is more of than usual, and since Jace is still asleep, sprawled out like a starfish over most of the bed now that Alec’s wriggled out from beneath him, there’s no one to give him the answers he needs except his own muddled memories. 

His own muddled memories and the piece of paper declaring them husband and husband that he’d found under the bed when he’d rolled out of it, landing on the floor with a loud crash. It was a small wonder that he hadn’t hit his head, even though that’s what it _felt_ like as his eyes scanned over the legal document, taking in his signature scrawled across the bottom with eyes that are comically wide. He lingers on it, tracing the lines over and over again, until he can replicate it with precision from memory alone. 

_Alexander Gideon Herondale_.

When Alec finally stops to think about it, he isn’t surprised that he took Jace’s name instead. Even if their relationship is hidden from everyone _but_ Izzy, his sexuality is no longer a secret, and his family had reacted to that in exactly the way he’d expected. Robert and Maryse were never the most loving parents, but he’d had their respect. 

Or at least what had passed as respect before he’d outed himself by refusing a political marriage to save the family name. Now, though, that name means _nothing_ to him, and a sharp pang of sadness fills Alec’s chest as he realizes that, at the Institute - and as its co-head - he will still be a Lightwood.

Always a Lightwood, regardless of what the Certificate of Marriage says. 

He’s no mundane, and neither is Jace, so their world and their rules and their laws don’t matter - even if they’ve bucked centuries of tradition and defied the Clave in a way that seems worse. There’s documentation, it’s public record now, and if anyone got suspicious enough of either of them, the years of carefully concealed half-truths would all come crashing down around them. 

They could be deruned. _Exiled_ , even, but the fear that used to come with that reminder is muted now. Alec doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand the gauntlet of feelings rushing through him, all of them too quick to hold on to, and there’s only one thought that keeps playing on a loop in his mind:

They’re _married_.

It’s a fantasy that Alec has entertained far more than is appropriate for someone in a relationship with the one person he’s not allowed to love like _that_ , and he’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to feel now that it’s come true. He’s happy and terrified and nauseated all at once, though Alec isn’t entirely sure that the last one is because they’re married. 

That one's the alcohol. 

_Probably_. 

They shouldn’t have been drinking at all, really, but the mission they were on had been little more than sitting around in the crappy motel they were surveilling from, and Jace knew just what to do to talk Alec into just about _anything_. It’s his eyes. It’s always been his eyes, from the first time they’d met in the training center when they were barely older than boys, and when Jace opened the mini-bar to toss one of the shot bottles across the room, his two-toned eyes wide and his mouth pulled into a pout, all Alec could do was unscrew the top and down the entire drink in one burning gulp. Saying _no_ hadn’t even crossed his mind, and Alec curses his inability to deny Jace _anything_. 

Judging by his immediate surroundings, one bottle turned into what looks like _all_ of them, and Alec can do nothing but sigh as he shifts with a groan, pushing himself to his feet so he can shake Jace awake. Because they’re _married_ , and Alec is too tired and too hungover to figure out how they’re supposed to handle this on his own. It’s a departure from what’s typical for the two of them. Jace is impulsive and reckless and never thinks through the consequences of his actions until he’s asking for forgiveness. Alec has always been the one to temper that side of his Parabatai; reining him in where no one else would stand a chance. 

When mundanes say that opposites attract, Alec has no doubts that he and Jace are precisely who they’re talking about. And, yet, here they are. _Still_ married, and Alec is sure of this because he’s steady pinched himself a few times. He’s still got a ring on his finger and the marriage certificate in his hand, though, and he easily dismisses the notion that, _maybe_ , he’s dreaming. 

As he grasps Jace’s shoulder with his free hand, Alec can hear himself echoing the officiants' words while he holds on to Jace’s hands, stares into his eyes, sways forward as if the few inches between them are too far. _For better or for worse_ seems to reverberate in his skull, _loudly_ , bouncing around like there aren’t more important things to think about, and Alec decides that this situation somehow qualifies as _both_. He frowns at that, shakes Jace’s shoulder again - a little more firmly this time - doesn’t stop until the other man begins to stir, groaning in a way Alec recognizes all too easily, meeting Jace's glare as calmly as possible.


	2. You Are A Pair of Hands I Never Want To Let Go Of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow) for beta'ing this, and further encouraging my absolute nonsense. Chapter title from the poem [Sacrilege Redux](https://latenightcornerstore.com/post/138655701556/it-seems-like-every-time-i-sit-down-to-write-about) by Ashe Vernon.

The bed is moving, and it feels like the Earth is quaking beneath him. _Again_. Like it did last night, except then it was for a very different reason. He remembers the details as if he’s looking back at them through the bottom of a glass, all hazy and far away, and Jace is content to remain where he is, comfortable in this limbo in between dreams and reality, a familiar heat curling through his body as his mind shifts to something much more pleasant. 

There are hands and lips and skin-on-skin contact. Alec is _everywhere_ , and every point of contact feels _electric_. Jace wants nothing more than to sink into the pleasure of it all, even if it’s only in his head, and stay there. Everything is still shaking around him, though - and not in the delicious, Earth-shattering way that he wants, is hoping for. When he finally stirs, rolling onto his back with a groan, his eyes are already narrowed when they blink open, glaring up at Alec who he finds hovering above him.

His face is close enough to touch, so Jace does, reaching up to brush his fingers along Alec’s jaw with the intentions of pulling him into a kiss. Now that the sleepy haze has begun to dissipate, though, Jace can sense that something is _off_. As Jace falls back to the bed with a grunt, a worried frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, he takes a moment to evaluate himself, and their surroundings, feels out the bond stretching between them. The familiar warmth of Alec’s love is there, _steady_ , and Jace _almost_ \- smiles before he’s flooded with everything else. There’s worry and guilt and confusion flickering at the edges of their shared emotions, but it’s the fear that Jace focuses on first. 

He shifts, one hand blindly reaching for Alec’s, intertwining their fingers, as he lifts the other to beckon the other man closer. It’s the glint of silver he catches out of the corners of his eyes that makes Jace pause, arm hanging in mid-air like it’s being held up by puppet strings. He’s squinting at it, head tilting from one side to the other as if changing the angle at which he’s looking from could possibly clear up his confusion. It’s a confusion that, now that he’s acknowledging it, matches Alec’s. 

He sits up slowly to get a closer look, studies the familiar designs engraved along the sides before he’s grabbing at Alec’s hand to _check_. His own family ring usually hangs from a chain around his neck, and it isn’t until he finds what he’s looking for that he notices the absence of its weight against his chest. 

Then, just like that, he remembers.

 _Sort of_. 

It’s all in fragments. Pieces that are slowly fitting themselves together to form as close to a whole as Jace can manage. The thin film of alcohol - _too much of it_ \- covers everything, but that doesn’t stop the seeds of _hope_ from blossoming in his chest as the knowledge that they’re _married_ begins to truly sink in. He pushes that feeling down, though, tries to pull the memories out from beneath all the cheap tequila he’d consumed the night before instead. It’s not easy, and his first try takes him a little further back in time - to when he and Alec had taken this mission to help the local institute, their ranks still dangerously thin since Jonathan even though that had been a few months ago now, and Jace had teased Alec about this very thing. _What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas_ he’d repeated at every opportunity, waggling his eyebrows with a playful smirk. Alec had done nothing but roll his eyes in response. 

Typical. Expected, even, what with all the practice Alec’s had at dealing with Jace’s often ridiculous and impulsive suggestions. Jace frowns at that, wonders if this is _his_ fault, because he knows Alec has trouble denying him anything and though he may have been joking when he brought it up before, it’s the one thing about their relationship he’s always wished could be different.

It is, now, and Jace swallows audibly as he slides up further into a fully-seated position, back against the headboard and knees drawn up to his chest. It’s a shield he knows he doesn’t need, not with Alec, but he’s not sure what to expect from the conversation he knows is coming and he wants to enjoy the little bit of happiness in knowing that Alec is _his_ in every conceivable way before it all comes crashing down. With a shaky breath, Jace grabs his stele from the nightstand, activating his own itatze, then Alec’s, to clear the remnants of their hangover from their systems, and he meets the other man’s gaze with a small smile. 

“We’re-”

“ _Married_ ,” Alec says, cutting him off in a whisper as he picks up the marriage certificate from where he’d set it at the foot of the bed so he can pass it over to Jace. It’s Alec’s name that draws his attention first, before any of the other details, and he feels his smile widen. It’s still a lot to take in, though, and Jace isn’t foolish or naive enough to think that this is a _good_ thing, but he knows it isn’t a bad thing either. 

_How could it be?_

He’s been in love with Alec for as long as he can remember, and he knows that the feeling is mutual. But they’re still duty-bound to obey the laws of the Clave, and whilst Alec has already broken so many for him, Jace isn’t sure if there’s a breaking point; an invisible line in the sand determining when it all becomes _too much_.

Jace opens his mouth again, but no words come out. He almost feels as if he should apologize. After all, it’s entirely his fault they’d drank so much in the first place. 

Now they’re married, though, and he Jace doesn’t have it in him to feel guilty about _that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like - what started as a drunken bout of "I wanna write but shouldn't be writing" has turned into something... else? Something else. If you're reading this, definitely expect more. Also, thank you so very much for reading.


	3. Even The Fates Cannot Change That Which is Decided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow) for beta’ing. And the incoherent screaming. ❤️ Chapter title from the poem [Ten Years In Love; Part I](https://ashendust.tumblr.com/post/135222643016/i-he-will-be-a-god-do-you-understand) by H.M.

Alec sighs and rubs his hands roughly over his face as he sits heavily on the bed beside Jace. Now that the throbbing in his head has faded away, as if it never existed in the first place, his myriad of emotions seems to have settled as well. He knows that it’s at least partially because of Jace. As has always been the case between them, Alec is responding to Jace’s distress, the vulnerability he so rarely shows, reaching out through their bond to try and _soothe_

“I wanted it too, you know,” is where he starts, because he knows Jace will blame himself when there’s no blame to be passed around. If there is, it’s on both of them, because even though Alec has trouble denying Jace anything he asks for, he’s still, always, the clearer head of the two of them. He traces the band on his finger subconsciously, finding that he likes the way it feels. The weight of the ring is comforting in a way he hadn’t expected it would be, and he uses the lingering silence to gauge Jace’s reaction through their bond.

Jace isn’t as good at hiding his feelings as well as he thinks he is, and Alec feels his lips turning up into a small smile when Jace begins to relax at his words. Alec can feel it as if it’s originated within himself, and when he sighs this time, it’s a sound of something that almost feels like _relief_. He nudges Jace’s shoulder with his own as he smiles, earning a bemused grin in response. 

It’s a reassurance he needs, and Alec chooses his words carefully when he presses on. “Even in secret, it felt like asking for too much.” He pauses, looks over at Jace with a smile that’s just a little sad at the edges. “Tempting fate, you know?”

Jace does know. Alec can see the understanding and agreement in his eyes, can feel it already settling inside himself as if its his own even before Jace nods. They both stay silent after that, lost in thought for a moment that seems to drag on before Jace shifts closer, pressing himself against Alec’s side with a sigh that sounds weighted down by the remnants of guilt that remains. 

“Herondale, huh?” 

When Jace finally speaks, Alec can hear the smile, the _pride_ , in his voice. The storm inside him has settled, for now, and Alec allows himself to sink into that feeling as he wraps an arm around Jace’s waist, runs the tips of his fingers over the stark black lines of their rune without needing to look at it. 

It’s comforting for both of them, and it’s what they need right now. 

“I’m not a Lightwood.” A short nod follows the statement, as if Alec is doing nothing more than listing bland facts. “I haven’t been for a long time, Jace, but I- I’ve always been _yours_.” There’s a sincerity in Alec’s tone that’s only rivaled by the firmness of his words, and if Jace didn’t already know - on a _cellular_ level - he’d have no room left for doubts now.

“I’ve always been yours, too,” Jace murmurs. The earnestness in his voice borders on _desperate_ , because he needs to make sure Alec _knows_ ; that he _understands_. From the first smile Alec offered Jace when he’d come to live with them as a child, that has been irrevocably true. Jace’s gaze falls to the ring on his finger again, before he’s even finished speaking, his thoughts traveling down a different path. “It hasn’t even been that long, and I already don’t want to take it off.” He looks up at Alec, now, eyes asking questions he isn’t putting words to. Alec doesn’t know if it’s because he’s afraid to ask, or because he doesn’t know _how_ to - the emotions flowing between them are too tangled up in each other’s to make sense of where one ends and another begins - but he knows what they are all the same. 

Knowing doesn’t mean that Alec has the right answers, though. They already take every possible precaution because they _need_ to. It’s imperative to their safety, to their very _lives_ , and despite all the risks that Alec has taken over the years, nothing is more important than keeping Jace _safe_ \- whatever form that takes. But the potential for forgetting themselves is always _there_. One wrong word, one touch that is a little too familiar and lingers a little too long, one _look_ if someone were to glance at them at precisely the right moment - the last thing they need is to arouse suspicion; to give anyone a reason to dig a little _deeper_.

That’s all it’ll take for their precarious house of cards to come tumbling down all around them. 

Alec frowns, thinks about how he could _probably_ survive being exiled, as long as he still had Jace, but even that would be taken from him. From _them_. He still remembers what it felt like when Jace died. _Agonizing_ is too tame a word, and he can’t stop the shudder that runs through him at the memory alone, every last part of him reaching desperately for Jace even though they’re still sitting side-by-side. 

“If we weren’t,” Jace begins again, fumbling a little over his words as he rushes to get them out. 

“ _No_ ,” Alec cuts him off without preamble, leaving no room for a rebuttal of any kind. He knows where this is going, has heard Jace bring it up more than once over the course of their relationship, and he _understands_. If they weren’t Parabatai, they would be free to be together in whatever way they choose, but- “I can’t even begin to imagine not being able to _feel_ you-” his hands falls to his flank instinctively, _protective_ , digging in a little more than he means to when he continues, “ _here_ , Jace. Not now that I know what it’s like.” 

His touch has become more of a caress now, an absent-minded stroking as he tries to parse his thoughts. 

On the outside, nothing has changed. Intellectually, Alec knows that. When they go back to New York, no one will be able to look at them and _know_ that they’re married - except, maybe, Izzy - but Alec also knows that’s not really the _point_.

Because Jace isn’t the only one who doesn’t want to take his ring off.


	4. Let Me Spin Salvation Off My Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been _exhausting_ , but I apologize that this took a little longer to get up. Many, _many_ thanks to K and [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow) for reading and encouraging and correcting my mistakes along the way. And to all of you still reading my nonsense. ❤️ Chapter title from the poem [Prayer Book](https://latenightcornerstore.com/post/112656583995/hold-me-in-the-holy-space-between-clasped) by Ashe Vernon.

In an instant, Jace is hit with a longing so _deep_ that it leaves him reeling for a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it all. A hand on Alec’s thigh keeps him steady as looks up, breath catching in his throat at the way his _husband_ is looking at him. Jace wants to do nothing more than get lost in this, in _him_ , but he tries to think through the facts of the situation they’re in first.

One: they’re _Parabatai_. Eros between them is _forbidden_ by Clave Law, but it’s a law that they’ve been breaking for half their lives now, despite its consequences.

Two: they’re _married_. It wasn’t planned, and if they’d been clear-headed the night before, it wouldn’t have happened at all. 

Three: They _want_ to be married. It feels _right_ , even if it happened in a twenty-four hour chapel in Las Vegas and without any of their own customs.

Four: Jace doesn’t _care_ about the _Law_ , he never has. _Not really_. Alec is _his_ in every conceivable way, now, and that’s all that matters. 

It’s the last one that makes him inhale a shuddering breath as he leans in, slowly, giving Alec a chance to stop him if that’s what he wants. He doesn’t, though, and the relief Jace feels at that lasts for as long as it takes for their lips to meet. It’s a simple kiss, _chaste_ by their standards, but it feels _different_ in a way Jace can’t even begin to process, let alone _explain_. Not that it _matters_. Nothing does when Alec draws him closer, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his flank, covering the rune he’d drawn there when they were much younger. Alec forces him to clamber awkwardly into his lap, and Jace is helpless to do anything but follow his guidance. All Jace can feel, all he can focus on, is the desire to be as close as possible. Completely surrounded by Alec.

It’s _almost_ -overwhelming. 

Jace knows the conversation isn’t over, that there are still things they need to discuss, but he finds it hard to _care_ when Alec is touching and holding and pulling him in to deepen the kiss as if they don’t have anything to worry about. 

For the moment, they _don’t_. They’re still alone, in a motel that’s certainly seen better days, and there’s nothing else that demands their immediate attention. Just _this_ , and Jace _needs_ it. He can tell that Alec does, too.

Jace gives in with a low moan at the back of his throat, rolls his hips against Alec’s in a motion that’s _meant_ to be teasing. He’s the one gasping into Alec’s mouth, though, body seeking _more_. But Alec’s hands are anchors on Jace’s hips, trying to stop him from squirming in place despite his best efforts. It’s _barely_ enough, and when Alec leans his head back, eyes hazy and dark as he stares down at Jace, it’s with a whimper that curls its way down Jace’s spine. That’s all the encouragement Jace needs, and when he pulls Alec back in for another kiss, it’s with a desperate groan that gets swallowed when their mouths catch again. 

Jace moves closer, presses himself tighter against Alec while their hands explore. They’ve been sharing a bed, sharing their bodies, for so long that it’s familiar territory. Jace has spent years mapping Alec’s skin with his fingers, his mouth, and he knows exactly how and where to touch to draw the most beautiful reactions from Alec. He doesn’t disappoint, and Jace’s lips curl up into a slight smirk when he feels Alec shuddering beneath him. Jace traces a single finger down Alec’s spine, _slowly_ , just to hear the soft sounds he makes. His face is buried into the crook of Alec’s neck, leaving a trail of bruises in the shape of his kiss, biting an unrepentant smile into his shoulder when Alec’s hips thrust back up against him. 

_Mine_ Jace thinks to himself as he pulls away, inspects the marks he’s left behind, heart beating furiously against his rib cage with an intensity that's somehow both familiar and foreign. This urgency between him and Alec has always been there, sparking without provocation, but it’s _more_ now in a way that Jace can’t explain. Has no time to even _think_ about when his hands glide down further, slipping beneath the waistband of Alec’s boxers to rest on the swell of his ass. Alec rocks back up against him in response, eyes wild when he looks down at Jace. 

There’s _need_ , but this is different - so much more _visceral_ \- and Jace has yet to find a word that could even _begin_ to describe Alec when he looks like this - eyes dark, face blushed, lips red and wet and swollen from kissing. It makes Jace grind down against Alec, losing himself in the pleasure. It’s more than just physical, though. The full weight of their emotions - every last one of them - thunders through their bond, uncontrollably. That’s familiar, too, though. It’s always been this way, from the very first time they fell into bed together, and Jace isn’t entirely sure he knows who he is without Alec. 

It’s not something he ever wants to find out. Jace refuses to even _think_ about the consequences that could befall them should their secret ever be discovered.

Jace shakes the thought from his mind immediately, focuses on Alec again as he pushes him back with a hand on his chest. He watches Alec for a moment, reaches down to brush sweat-dampened hair off of his forehead, before he moves. Their chest-to-chest, sweat-slicked skin sticking as they shift against each other. Jace’s hands are sliding down Alec’s sides, fingers hooking into the waistband of his underwear so he can tug them down.

“Fuck,” Alec groans, hand sliding up over Jace’s shoulder, hooking around the back of his neck so he can drag him down into another kiss, speaking directly into Jace’s mouth when he says, “ _please_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed that the next chapter comes a little quicker. 🤞🏼

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this is going, and will likely need another bottle of wine to get there. But I do accept gentle nudges to continue, should you deem them necessary. Rated for potential future mature content, but this may change as the story progresses.


End file.
